


Stuck

by ashleyerwinner



Category: Supernatural
Genre: DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Dildos, ER visit, M/M, NSFW, Sex Sent Me to the ER, Sexcapades, bottom!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-14 23:15:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7194908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashleyerwinner/pseuds/ashleyerwinner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean was royally, truly, and absolutely fucked.</p><p>And not even in the good way. The good way was what was supposed to happen, a quick fix in his bedroom, alone, the privacy his own room in the bunker would give him after weeks of spending time in shitty motels with Sam and Cas, not a moment to himself to relieve his tension, so to speak. So, all he wanted was an hour or two to himself, his hand, and a new toy that came in the P.O. Box while they were away.</p><p>And now he’s fucked. Literally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stuck

**Author's Note:**

> this is totally self-indulgent
> 
> dean gets a dildo stuck up his ass
> 
> cas helps

Dean was royally, truly, and absolutely fucked.

And not even in the good way. The good way was what was supposed to happen, a quick fix in his bedroom, alone, the privacy his own room in the bunker would give him after weeks of spending time in shitty motels with Sam and Cas, not a moment to himself to relieve his tension, so to speak. So, all he wanted was an hour or two to himself, his hand, and a new toy that came in the P.O. Box while they were away.

And now he’s fucked. Literally.

Whether it was too much lube, or his eagerness getting the best of him, or a slip of his wrist too hard, Dean, well, he –

He lost the dildo up his ass.

And it was on vibrate.

Immediately into panic mode, he wiped his hands the best of his ability and tried to pry it out of himself, to no avail. He pushed, but to his horror, it only seemed to exacerbate the issue. He couldn’t reach to turn off the vibrations, he couldn’t get the dildo out, and he had no other options.

Death, maybe. He’d die of embarrassment if anyone found out.

Especially if Sam found out. Which was a major probability considering their close proximity and his little brother’s instincts of knowing when he was about to be Seriously Embarrassed.

So, lesser of two evils, he decided. Cas would have to help him, one way or another.

Dean pulled on some loose sweatpants, and dug through his bedsheets to find his discarded shirt, and hurriedly walked down the hall, to the right, and one, two, three doors on the left, knocked on Cas’ door. The sound of the vibrations seemed to buzz directly in his ears as he waited in the silence for Cas to open his goddamn bedroom door. Finally, eventually, Cas cracked the door a peep, and blearily looked at Dean through the open space.

“Dean?” His voice was hoarse from sleep. Then, his brow furrowed. “What’s that sound?” Embarrassed, and red in the face, Dean pushed his way into Cas’ room and faced his friend, waiting for him to close the door.

“I… need your help,” Dean says, finally, the pressure of the dildo uncomfortably vibrating inside him. Cas frowns at him, and takes a step closer, and Dean quickly steps back. He’s already got something shoved up his ass. He doesn’t need Cas up there too.

“What exactly is wrong?” He asks, clearly confused. And honestly, why wouldn’t he be? Dean is in his room at 2-o-clock in the morning, standing upright with no visible injuries, and accompanied by a buzzing noise. It’s the epitome of confusion.

“I…” Dean couldn’t bring himself to say it. He could barely bring himself to push the confirm button online to buy the damn toy, let alone say out loud that he bought himself a fucking dildo so he could shove something bigger than his fingers up his goddamn ass.  

“Dean, I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.” Cas says, patient and stern, and Dean urges himself to say it. He says it a hundred times in his head but when he opens his mouth he chokes on the vibrations trilling up his spine. But Cas stands there, as understanding as ever, and waits.

“This is fucking embarrassing. _Beyond_ … embarrassing.” He ducks his head as he feels tears burning in his eyes. “And I’m standing here in front of you in fucking _agony_ because of it and I can’t even say it and I just… If you could read my mind, it would make this a lot easier, and you _can’t_ because you’re human again and all that bullshit and that’s my fault and I shouldn’t be coming to you because this is just another thing that I’m burdening on you and –“

“Dean,” Cas says firmly. Dean looks up at his clenched, hard face, and his resolve falters.

“I have a vibrator stuck up my ass. I can’t get it out, and I need help.” Dean blurts out, his ears burning red, and he watches in horror as Cas’ stern face softens into a surprised “oh”.

“Oh,” says Cas, as if his face didn’t already tell him that, and Dean wants to cry, honest to fucking god. He wants to scream, because the vibrations are making the sensitive walls of his ass cry with pain, his dick is still hard as a rock and he’s not sure it’ll stop until he comes or the dildo’s out of his fucking ass, and he’s standing in front of _Cas_ , of all people, hard, with a dildo _up his ass_ asking for help.

“Dean, we have to go to a hospital,” Cas says, confirming his worst fears, and Dean would cry if he wasn’t so sure that the dildo would just go farther up his ass. Cas grabs his shoes and pulls them on, and Dean watches in abstract horror as he realizes he’s gonna have to sit for god knows how long in a car and wait for god knows how long in a doctor’s office and _GOD_ if the fucking thing would stop _vibrating ­­_ –

“Let’s go,” Cas says, bringing him back to reality, and grabs the meaty part of his upper arm and gently leads him to the garage. Dean’s aware that Cas is trying to talk to him, but there’s just so much in his mind he doesn’t register the words until he hears the word Impala.

“What?” He asks, dizzy-sounding, and Cas squeezes his arm. He lets a shaky breath out and nods. “You gotta… please keep doing that. Touching me.” He asks. “I can’t.” He breathes deeply again. “I can’t deal with this. It’s too much. This is all… the sensations. It’s too much.” Dean says, and Cas nods.

“Of course, Dean. I was asking if you wanted to take the Impala or the Continental. I’ll be driving and I wanted to make sure which car was better for us to travel in. I know you’d be more comfortable in the Impala, but with me driving, you might not be as—“

“You can drive the Impala,” he hears himself saying. “I trust you.” And yeah, it’s true, he does trust Cas, with his life, with Sam’s life, but with _baby_? When did he decide –

“Okay, Dean. I’m going to put you into the passenger’s seat, and then I’ll get into the driver’s seat. It’ll be a couple of seconds before I can buckle myself and you properly and then we’ll start. I’ll keep talking to you through the entire car ride, I’ll provide the fake medical information when we get to the ER, and I’ll make sure everything is taken care of, okay?” Cas says, and if he wasn’t in so much agony, Dean’d smile. He really would. Cas is great. Cas is perfect. But instead, he just nods. Cas holds Dean’s arm as he struggles to seat himself into the passenger’s seat, yelping as he sits down properly, and Cas helps him turn to his side, where the pressure is substantially lessened. The door slams shut behind him and Dean watches as Cas gets in the driver’s seat, and leans over Dean to buckle him before buckling himself.

“Okay, Dean. I’m gonna start driving to the hospital. Are you ready?” Cas places his hand on Dean’s shoulder, and Dean nods, trying desperately to ignore the vibrations. Cas’ hand settles him, and he barely feels the car starting up as his shoulder is squeezed. Amazingly, the vibrations from the car almost distract him from the vibrations from the dildo, and he almost laughs in relief as they begin their drive to the ER.

“Let me know if there’s potholes,” Dean murmurs. Cas hums, and rubs Dean’s shoulder distractedly.

“Do you want anything on the radio?” He asks, and Dean shrugs. “It might take your mind off of it,” he reasons, and hell if that ain’t a good point. He says okay, and the warmth and familiarity of his hand is gone as Cas flips on the radio, adding another round of vibrations.

“Thank you,” Dean says, not just for the radio, but for everything. He wonders if Cas understands the heaviness of his words, but then Cas squeezes his shoulder again, and Dean relaxes into it. He’s taken care of. He’s okay. Everything is gonna be okay.

“Railroad tracks coming up,” Cas says, and rubs Dean’s shoulder. Dean prepares himself, grabbing onto Cas’ arm, and waits for the impending bumps.

He wasn’t prepared enough. The jostling of the car over the tracks bounces him enough that within seconds, he’s clutching onto Cas for dear life, moaning and rutting against the thin fabric of his sweatpants until he’s coming, _coming_ , hot and wet and uncomfortable in the passenger’s seat of his precious car holding on to his best friend with a dildo stuck up his ass. If he had the strength to cry he’d be in full tears, but Cas rubs his arm and shushes him, and Dean tries to keep his composure for the remainder of the ride. He notices now how Cas stares straight ahead, and doesn’t say a word. He’d be thankful for it if he wasn’t so goddamn mortified.

“I think there might be a bag in the trunk,” Cas says as they pull into the hospital’s parking lot. “I’m gonna check to see if there’s an extra pair of pants.” Dean nods and hides his face and waits for the door to close before he starts swearing up a storm, curled into a fetal position, sticky and wet and disgusted with himself, and in inhuman pain. Cas’ shadow blocks the fluorescent lights of the hospital sign, and he gingerly opens the passenger’s door.

“I can help,” Cas says softly. “If you want, I can help you change into these. I’m not going to help without your permission, but if you want my help, I will help.” He says it softly, and Dean nods slowly. Cas pulls off his sweatpants, and rolls him over. Dean watches his blank, determined face as he cleans Dean off as best as he can before he pulls a pair of shorts onto him, one leg at a time, and lets Cas pull him up out of the car, bare-assed, and finish pulling up the shorts as he’s standing.

Cas leads him into the ER, leads him to a corner, and Dean barely understands Cas explaining to him to stand there, because he’ll take care of the rest. He watches blankly as Cas whispers to the nurse behind the desk his predicament, and the nurse and her raised eyebrows shoots over to him, and just as quickly, he’s being led into an exam room.

He goes through the initial exam, the x-rays, and the extraction under anesthesia with Cas by his side, explaining everything for Dean, who’s too mortified and in too much pain to speak. They give him muscle relaxers and hook him up to an IV for fluids. When he finally comes to, the ER doctor is smiling and welcoming him back into the world, and Cas is there at his bedside, a small smile on his face as well.

“It’s out?” He asks, his voice sounding foreign to him. The doctor nods and explains, and Dean scrambles to reach out to Cas, to find his hand, his arm, his anything. Cas’ hand finds his first, and he squeezes hard, letting Dean know this is real, that he’s okay.

“…And everything should be fine from now on, just as long as you use sex toys with a base the next time you use one anally.” She finishes. Her smile is comforting, and Dean finally feels like he’s coming back to himself.

“I’m embarrassed.” He says, and the doctor chuckles.

“Don’t be,” she says, shaking her head. “What happened to you happens to a lot of people. And not always with sex toys. Much more often it’s things you’d never expect to be inserted anally. At least you came in with a sex toy, and not, say, a water bottle.” She smiles, and Dean laughs. “And you’re very lucky to have a friend here to take care of you. It’s not often people come in with these injuries with someone else. It speaks volumes about your trust for one another.” Dean’s face reddens, and Cas squeezes his fingers again.

“Thank you, Doctor Monroe,” Cas says. Dean nods along.

“Yeah, thank you.”

Dean sleeps the whole way home. He’s barely conscious when Cas basically carries him to bed, gently laying him down and pulling the blankets over him.

He wakes up the next morning with embarrassment flooding through him. He’s sore and uncomfortable and fully aware of everything that happened the previous night, orgasm and all. But he’s sure Cas won’t treat him any differently, considering the way he’d taken care of him the previous night. He’d tucked him in for Christ’s sake.

But he doesn’t see Cas all day. He walks into the library, makes small talk with Sam (who thankfully isn’t aware of anything that happened), makes dinner for everyone, but when Cas comes in for dinner, he takes a burger with his nose in a book, refusing to make eye contact.

The shame of the night comes back to him in waves, making him so nauseous that he has to leave the bunker for fresh air.

He’s angry at himself. He’s angry at Cas for treating him like a leper, but he’s angry at himself because he trusted Cas so much. He trusted Cas and he asked for help and the doctor _noticed_ that their relationship was trust, and now he’s outside of the bunker, dry-heaving and crying over the most embarrassing night of his entire life, because _Cas_ is ignoring him, because _Cas_ has abandoned him. It hurts. It’s the worst thing he could imagine happening after coming in his pants with a foreign object crammed up into his lower intestine, and he’s alone. He’s ostracized himself from the one true friend he’s got, and it’s all his fault.

He’s just upset enough that he’s gonna confront him about it.

He finds himself in front of Cas’ door, knocking obnoxiously, fuming and upset. When Cas answers the door, confused and angry, Dean pushes his way in again and paces the room, waiting for the right words to come out.

“Dean, what’s wrong?” He asks, like he’s not aware of the fact that he completely shunned him the entire day. He looks at him in disbelief and scoffs, and keeps pacing. The words will come to him eventually.

“You!” He says, finally, and Cas looks at him like he’s grown a second head. “After last night, and I, and you… You’re just gonna?” He stops, and starts pacing again.

“Dean.”

“No!” Dean shouts. “I came to you, for _help_. To help me. And you spent all night with me, you did _everything_ , and now? Now you won’t even look at me? Won’t talk to me?” Tears threaten to spill from his eyes and he blinks them away. “I… you…”

“It’s not,” Cas sighs. “It’s not like that.” He sits on the edge of his bed and fiddles with his fingers.

“It’s not _like_ that?” Dean says, accusatory, and Cas sighs again.

“I’m… the one who’s embarrassed. Not because of what happened last night, Dean.” He explains, glancing up at him. “But because… Because…”

“Because?”

“Because while you were in pain, while we went over those train tracks, you cried out my name, and that’s all I’ve been able to think about since last night.” Cas looks up at him now, serious as ever. “I’m embarrassed because I watched you cry my name out in relief, watched as you held onto me and came with my name on your lips, and instead of feeling bad that you were in such horrific pain, I just wanted to keep making you make that face. Kept wanting to make you cry out _my_ name.” Dean feels dizzy as he watches Cas stand up, feels his face grow warm as Cas walks toward him.

“You…”

“I’m ashamed with myself because even now, whle you’re mad at me, feeling abandoned and alone and mad and upset, and you _should_ be. You should be furious with me.” He takes in a deep breath and looks up at Dean again with half-lidded eyes. “I just want to ask if it’s okay to kiss you. I want to kiss you, and hear those noises again. I want to –“ Dean cuts him off by pressing his lips onto Cas’. He wastes no time at all by kissing back, forcefully and passionately, grabbing his face and smoothing his fingers through Dean’s short hair, moaning into his mouth.

“Don’t be ashamed.” Dean says, “Don’t.” He presses himself against Cas, feels how hard Cas is against his thigh. Cas feels how much Dean wants this too, by the way he ruts against him. Cas leads him to the bed, and they fall into each other, kissing and moaning, and when Cas takes both of their cocks into his hand, it’s only a few minutes before he watches Dean come clutching onto him and crying out his name. This time, Dean watches in awe as Cas does the same right after.

They’re lying in the afterglow when Cas whispers that they’ll be getting a medical bill in Sam’s alias name in their P.O. Box sometime later this month, and he’ll fully support Dean if he chooses to use it as blackmail against Sam in the future.

Dean’s pretty sure he’s never loved anyone as much as he loves Cas.


End file.
